Morning, Young Prince!"
|THE CAPTIVE STAG
At four o'clock, the harsh alarm
Kicked through my sleep, and, half-awake,
I brought my coffee to the farm
By the quiet lake,
And there, within the azure gloom,
Through palisades of diamond mesh
Leapt in your brown eyes as you took
It spoke of aeons we had shared
When freckled skin last wore your skin
Why Nature, with a backward glance
A craggy stream-bed, with sharp sight
I saw you sniff the wind that stirred
And, bound for labor's narrow cage,
© 2005 by Ellin Anderson. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be copied or used in any way without written permission from the author.